LETTERS FROM HOME 1
By Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE ghj_4u@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER & ADVANCED WARNING:
What you are about to read (should you continue) are genuine life experiences culled from a number of your fellow readers and "fans" of the author. These "letters" depict actual sexual encounters, which occurred during the childhood of a wide variety of these male readers.
Each true experience has been sent or otherwise related to the author by a vast number of Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE "fans" over a period of years.
None are certifiable in their veracity but let it be stated that each man claims the story which he tells is a completely true one.
For clarity of storytelling, all letters have been slightly modified and/or re-told by the author although the situation, details and spirit remain as true to the originals as is possible.
All of the following "Letters from Home" depict direct and, at times, extremely hardcore sexual acts, which have actually occurred between men and very young boys.
Do not read if you are offended by such true-life stories. Do not read if you are offended by sexually explicit material. Do not read if you are offended by behaviors of a decidedly homosexual nature. Do not read if you are offended by the reality of sexual acts, which at times occur between men and boys. Do not read if you are offended by incest in general. Do not read if you are offended by homosexual incest between fathers and sons. Do not read if you are offended by Internet all-male erotic literature. Do not read if you are a minor. Do not read if you reside in a locale where such material is prohibited. Do not read if you are easily "inspired to action" by others' stories. Do not read if you are a male babysitter looking for stories to read to the boys at bedtime. Do not read if you are in an airport terminal waiting room. Fellow passengers, many of them families, will notice the tent that the erection within your slacks will create. Do not read if you are at Christian Bible camp for thou shalt surely wander into a pup tent and break a Commandment. Do not read if you are a dad whose wife is away on business, leaving you all alone for a week with only your two-year-old son. Oh, you know why. Do not read if you are a wife or mother easily upset by the reality which just might be lurking within your own home (not to make you all paranoid or anything).
Never engage in sex with a minor.
PREFACE:
Being an "erotic literary figure" has its perks. As "Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE", I relate detailed accounts from my own salacious childhood and in return, numerous men share their own similar experiences with me.
It's not so much that I solicit such intimately personal exchanges. Instead, it is simply that men need a "someone they can trust" - a someone to whom they can (at last) tell the true story of, what I call their hidden essential sexuality.
I feel quite privileged to be what may be that one person out there on the peripheries of their life, with whom these guys can open up and "get off their (hairy) chests" the secret reality of what they (and so many other boys and men) think and experience sexually.
And its ironic how oftentimes those on the periphery of someone's life are the ones most capable of getting to the heart of that someone's life. For what is tossed to the periphery is often that singular revelation which ranges from what is their "simple perversion" to the deeply psychological core of their very being.
Some men use the opportunity to drop me the one-liner variety of e-mail to tell me (to tell someone) the biggest secret of their whole, entire life, "Hey guy, I'm in the NFL and I never told this to anybody before - but I love sucking big, juicy, uncut cocks!"
Hmmm. And how sad that some football wife is out there spending her entire life trying to figure out what color she can dye her hair in order to make him "happy".
And, it's staggering the slew of those regular guys out there (YOU guys) who tell me, "I'm straight. Well, 99% straight. But what guy doesn't get off in the campus showers or Y sauna? Hell, I love my wife/girlfriend but you can't beat m2m sex for pure, animal hot fun."
Ah! And girls always seem to think that jocks are only buddies with other jocks in order to better pick-up women at bars!
Other male readers (the dads out there) often write of far more secretive truths - darker things, such as: "Father of three here. I'd never touch my kids but I sure do fantasize about seeing all three of them in a motel room with a bunch of nasty, strange men. You tap into what we dads are thinking. Continue the valuable work you do."
And you have to laugh because you just know that every time they drive past a Motel 6 and he springs a rod in his slacks, that his wife starts her way-off-track grilling of, "You are sleeping with Mindy, aren't you? You tryst with her at motels! Don't deny it! I can see what the mere sight of a sleazy motel does to you!"
Then there is the simply enormous numbers of men (Wow-factor numbers of you!) who send me letters along the lines of: "If I could do anybody, it would be my dad. What a fucking hot cock on him. I always wanted to suck on my dad's cock and eat his sperm. Man, you were lucky. I wish I had had the guts when I was seven years old to grope my dad while he slept. My ONE regret in life is that I never sucked off or got fucked by my own father."
Golly, wouldn't it be amazing if all the dads out there knew they had someone in their own household who would blow them anytime and anywhere they needed it? If only as many dads realized that their own sons want to suck down their seed as there are sons willing to do it (my, but we'd all have fabulous Thanksgiving family get-togethers, wouldn't we?)!
Meanwhile, still other men send off far more luridly calculating e-mail to say, "My wife and I just had our first. I never really thought much about my son sexually before. But you now got me thinking. And you know what? He does look like a little cocksucker the more I watch him sucking on that pacifier."
These sorts of notes and letters most usually relate those things that men fear they can never share with anyone else - on the entire planet. And worse than that simple fear, these men more deeply fear that they perhaps never will be able to share these things - things which they know are at the foundation or are the essence of their very being.
People want to be understood - even if it requires someone else doing all the work to figure them out. Men hold a secret to their innermost self. And they want someone to know it. But sadly, while some "inner most secrets" are merely rather depraved, other secrets are so socially unacceptable, that they are expected to disappear - misunderstood, uncirculated and most-hopefully, never even spoken.
That is perhaps why there is so much turmoil in the world. Men carry an enormous amount of baggage with them. Baggage they feel they can never - because they are not permitted - to unload.
It is perhaps why women may never understand men. And why men will always on some level think that women are "stupid" - stupid for never getting to what is at their core.
Why does that well-hung corporate exec only wear Hanes boxers? Want to know the real reason why?
His wife thinks its because he's cheap. After all, he could afford better stuff. And his son thinks its because his dad's a fuddy dud. And his tailor thinks its due to the way he "dresses to the left".
But if you really...really...want to know, its because it's the same brand and style his old man wore all the time. When he was kid, lying on his tummy with a boner, he stared at his own dad wearing and bulging in the same type of Hanes boxer. Heck, to get down to it - it's the first underwear he ever stuck his hand into as he was permitted to fondle his dad's meaty cock through its fly.
And now, in a sense, as a man, he's psycho-sexually stepped into his own dad's boxers - and well-hung masculinity - by always wearing those same sort of Hanes.
They are what make him feel "manly" and "confident". They are the reason he's a power broker at work. They are what make him "feel" sexual. They are what he knows catches the eye of other men on the train. And they are the calculated method he employs to show off what he's got to his own son.
He knows all of that - even if no one else does or cares to ever know the truth. Those Hanes boxers, in a sense, are at the core of his being.
Whodda thunk such a thing?
And see? Now that YOU know, you can understand why he's never-ever going to tell anybody within his sphere the real reason he wears them.
But he might tell you or me - men lurking on the sexual periphery of his life - men who understand the power of big dick in underwear and of a boy's early encounters with such power. And as he tells us his "secret", we profoundly know more about his intrinsic self than does anyone who lives or works or eats or sleeps or even breeds with him.
And this need to share such "secrets", which would otherwise be kept in a box (one with a very tight lid on it), is the real driving power of the Internet. For suddenly such inner truths about men have sprung out of that box...and into Society's lap.
Forget Bill Pay and amazon.com and surfing for booby-porn. The real power of the Internet is in the fact that the inner lives of men, vast incalculable numbers of men, secretly held until now...are revealed.
And its shocking the things that have been revealed by hundreds of millions of men around the globe. Let's think about it for a nano-second. What is the one thing almost everyone immediately says about men and the Internet?
Yup: "Man, there are tons of pervs in the world, aren't there?!"
But, you know what? All those "pervs" are just regular men - and all were walking the Earth before the Internet. Nothing intrinsically has changed about the nature of men.
Instead what has changed is that Society can no longer remain ignorant of or deny the nature of men and male sexuality. Women can no longer slip into easy-thinking mode that their husbands cheat only with their bosomy secretaries. Now these wives know that the odds are ten times higher that when he's late from the office, he is getting his big dick sucked by other men in some adult bookstore.
And a mom must now consider the possibility that no matter how big a Wonderbra she's slung into, her husband just might be masturbating in the bathroom upstairs while sniffing their son's Underoos.
That's right. Society cannot hide any longer behind the old thinking that there are only a "handful of perverts in our nation's parks" or that there is but "one dirty old man in the public toilets shoving cock into the mouths of little boys". And Society knows it can no longer easily say that there is only "one in a million fathers out there who are diddling with their owns sons in the bath tub".
The Internet has proven that most males have a very deep, dark, inner sexual self. Therefore, Society cannot blame everything on one masturbating, unknown molester on the playground. For on the Internet, one sees that millions of other men freely or hesitantly share the fact that they, too, would love to be on that playground with that masturbating, unknown molester. And, gosh, if one were to cram all the men who want to watch a father have sex with his own son on the kid's twin bed, well, that kid's bedroom had better be the size of the Astrodome.
Yeah, behavior and nature hasn't changed. Instead, what's been shocking has been the revelation that droves of men - men all around us - everywhere one may go - are doing (or wishing to do) such things.
What's most shocking about the Internet is not the lurid fantasies at which it grabs, but, rather, the lurid truths it reveals.
Because of the Internet, a man in Vienna can tell a man in Virginia all about his own toddler son's tiny, well lubed bottom.
Because of the Internet, a man in Virginia can tell a man in Venezuela all about the tiny, well-lubed bottom of some toddler son of a man in Vienna.
And because of the Internet, that boy's mom must face the fact that men on three continents are all beating off "together" as they discuss her toddler boy's tiny, well-lubed bottom.
And that "news" can be eye-popping. Not because these men have invented something new in order to amuse their libidos. But, instead, because it is "secret information" which general Society has never before known or considered about its men.
The same can be said of sex between fathers and their own sons or between strange men and a tot. Some blame the Internet for bringing this phenomenon into the world. Well, it's an easy target - and Society loves an easy target since complexity is, well, too complicated to muddle through.
But the man of seventy damn well knows that the men who gangbanged him when he was two-years-old certainly had never even dreamed of an Internet. And the handsome dad of forty can easily assert that the Internet had nothing to do with all the times his dad mounted his small butt whenever they were alone. And, bottom line, what has the Internet really got to do with some poverty-stricken dad in the trailerpark who, without the "aid" of a computer or Internet connection, still unzips and has his kid suck on his cock all day while watching re-runs of "Leave it to Beaver"?
It's these realities between men and boys which guys have experienced and yet have so few opportunities or outlets to share them. After all, most men are purposefully ushered past looking closely and truthfully at these sorts of experiences in their own lives. Or perhaps more accurately, they are ushered past sharing them...sometimes with anyone...under any circumstances.
There often seems to be an unspoken rule that a boy should lay still, let dad squirt seed into him...and then "fo'get aboudit" (or simply absorb the experience into their life without ever telling anyone). And if the boy enjoyed it on any level, all the more reason to silence him. Sometimes this "rule" is foisted upon males in our Society and sometimes its self-imposed. A boy, a young man, a middle-aged man, even an elderly man becomes conditioned to keeping such things secret.
But, everyone needs a safety valve and that, of course, includes men who want to share the stuff they cannot tell anyone else.
And we're in luck - because they will tell me.
What follows are completely true stories told to me by all sorts of men - YOU GUYS - true accounts of sex which you guys, as boys, experienced with men (and in these cases, with your own dads).
These are not related verbatim since some men share things in bits and pieces, or can't write a coherent sentence, or have related their stories casually to me over the years.
In the same way that I have had thousands of men ejaculate in me over the years, I have also heard the childhood sex stories of thousands of men. What is rather stunning is that few of these true childhood incest stories are ever heard by anyone else in these men's lives. Thousands of powerfully, life-forming incestuous encounters with their own fathers which thousands of men could never before tell anyone.
And as the recipient of such personal stories, it is amazing what a position that puts a guy such as myself. My understanding of men and of the world cannot help but be "enlightened" by such knowledge - knowledge of men and of what men have experienced. Things, which for numerous reasons, they have felt could never before be relayed to anyone else. Its powerful and humbling to be that one person whom a man of eighty can (at last) tell of his molestation by five men when he was only a toddler. That man has told neither of two wives, nor three children, nor ten grandchildren nor six great-grandchildren nor any friend, war buddy, co-worker, neighbor or psychiatrist or minister in all these seventy-eight years. But now we'll read what those men did to him in 1926 when he was just two years of age.
Some of one's amazement can be attributed to the sheer quantities of sex between men and boys (and mostly between dads and sons). And some of it can be attributed to the fact that so many men, years and decades later, still find that sexual encounter - despite marriages, kids, divorces, multiple lovers, etc...still resonates and proves to be the most intensely erotic within their life's experiences. It's sometimes the experience, in fact, which most shaped their lives.
What follows are the first of many true accounts of sexual encounters, which various men, when they were boys, had with their own fathers. They have been related to me, the author, over a period of years. Each person has consented to have his tale told and, therefore, each personal account remains as close and true to the original telling as is possible. Some stories are very brief while others are lengthier. They vary in their levels of sexual contact and/or sexual awareness and consent.
All names have been changed to protect the nastiest dads among them.
LETTERS FROM HOME 1
Robert, age 49, Tulsa, Oklahoma
I was nine when this happened. We were raised in a fundamentalist Christian house. My dad was a minister; my mother baked and played the organ. My older brother, who is twelve years older than me was Youth minister at my dad's church.
Saturday mornings I'd help clean the church for Sunday services. Polished the pews, mopped the floors and general stuff like that. I'd help mother sometimes do it. Some Fridays she couldn't make it and I'd do it alone. Or sometimes a lady of the congregation came to help.
This was a Friday when mother couldn't be there. She called a lady to help but the lady could not be there until noon. I got to the church at eleven and I thought I was alone. Our house was next door to the church and I thought my father was writing his sermon at the house.
When I turned on the lights in the church I heard a noise in the room that was just off the entry. I didn't think anyone was really in the church since I had to unlock it and then it was quiet. But I figured I'd go into the room anyway. Sometimes a bird and one time a squirrel got into the church.
I opened the door to the room used as a mix of storage and business account files. It was very quiet and I saw my dad standing at a window. The shade was down but the light came through. He was facing the window; his back was to the door. I made some noise of surprise because I wasn't expecting to find anyone in the church. My dad turned around and had the most surprised look on his face. It was hard to see him because the lights weren't on and the sunlight from the shade made contrasty shadows on him when he turned.
But I could see that his pants were down at his knees. My dad was masturbating which was something I was scared was sinful and evil when I was that age. My dad never said too much about masturbating but mother often referred to the dirty deed boys must never do. And my big brother who was 21 would yell at me if he ever saw even a hint of an erection on me.
But here was my father with his pants down. I looked hard into the shadow and saw his penis was exposed. He had his underwear down too.
I remember saying I was real sorry. My father yelled at me and told me to come into the room and to shut the door. I did it fast because when my father told you to do something, you did it. The room smelled of dust and paper. It was warm in there since the window was closed.
My father came around this one big desk that was in there. I watched his penis coming near me. I had never seen it before. My dad was modest like my whole family. I never even had seen it when he'd shower. It was the first time seeing it and he was half-hard.
To me at nine years of age, his penis looked real big. I was circumcised but I saw that my father's penis looked a little different. I came to know he was intact and I was looking at foreskin.
He yelled at me for sneaking up on him and said that he bet I was trying to catch him with his pants down. He started screaming something about the perversion of Noah's son and that I probably wanted to do that to him.
I didn't know what he was talking about. At nine, I just knew Noah and his ark. My dad accused me of wanting to have sex with him the way Noah's son seduced Noah.
He then told me to look at what he had been looking at and yelled at me to come to his side. He was carrying a magazine that he spread open on the big desk. I had never seen anything like it. It showed a woman and a man both sucking the cock of some other man.
My father pointed to the picture and said how wicked the people were. He pointed to the woman and called her a harlot. And said the men would burn for their abomination. He flipped pages and the man was eating white cream from the penis of the other man while the woman shoved something between her legs.
I was horrified but was sexually aroused. My father began masturbating in front of me and said I was like the man eating the white cream. I didn't know what the cream was and I was confused. But he kept looking at me as he masturbated saying I was like the one sucking and eating the cream in the pictures.
I stood there looking at my father masturbating in front of me not knowing what to do.
He asked me if I was like Noah's son and I remember shaking my head. He said that Noah had a son who sucked his penis. I didn't know anything about sucking cock then (I learned since). My father yelled at me to kneel. And I did it without even a flicker of hesitation. My father was boss of the church, our family, of me.
I had his penis in my mouth before I knew what was happening. He was big and looked a lot like Roy Rogers. Everybody always joked calling him Reverend Roy although his name was Stuart. I was sucking my dad in the church. I couldn't even move because he had a grip on my head. I suppose it wasn't that firm a grip but if you knew my father, any grip he had on you made you do what he wanted.
He came in my mouth that first time and I was scared. I thought he was dying or having a heart attack. All this salty stuff was in my mouth. I coughed because I hated the taste and it scared me. I didn't think a father would do that in his own son's mouth. And I especially would never have thought my father would do such a thing.
He came and then pushed me away. I got up, watching him pull up his pants. I was terrified that I had done something real wrong. I knew it had to be something evil I did to my dad. He said it was wicked what the people in the magazine were doing and that Noah's son was evil. But I had just done the same thing to him.
I shook out of fear still tasting his cum. When he closed his pants he took the magazine and folded it into some papers he had with him. He came up to me and I was expecting him to yell at me but he kissed me instead. He kissed me on the lips. My father never kissed us boys. And he was kissing me like I saw him only kiss mother. His tongue went into my mouth, making me lose my breath because I wasn't expecting it.
He told me to say nothing about what I did to him because I would get into trouble for doing such a thing to him. He then told me to get to cleaning the church.
END.
Bo, age 52, Malmo, Sweden
I was put to work when I was only three years. My work was sex with my dad. That may sound funny but was quite real. My father was employed at a state liquor store and was always home in the morning. My mother was a teacher and was at school before my father would even be awake. It was during those morning hours that my father had what was his side business with three other men. They had sex and took pictures when having sex with their children. This was 1953 and nobody then knew much about such a business and no one did anything about it. My dad and these men could do anything they wanted at that time and knew that it was okay with most men then
I was sucking my dad's cock at that time, at age 3. And either he would take pictures or the other men would. He would fuck me then. Some people do not think such a thing is possible but it is. He was fucking my bum at age 3 because I think it is what men who shared such pictures wanted to see. I was a good fuck from age of 3 until today.
This went on for many years until I was age eleven and too old for the pictures. No one ever knew this before.
END.
Ronny, age 26, Brooklyn, NYC
My dad's a big Sicilian. He's 61 now. Like me, he's beefy and hairy. Big noses, too. Fortunate for us we don't got the fat gene that my ma's family has. But we do got the fat cock gene. I saw my dad's cock all the time from when I was a little kid up. It wasn't anything we talked about. He was just always swinging his fat bat in the bathroom or when we'd go hunting upstate.
I knew I was a cocksucker by age 10 because I was sucking my older brothers. All three of them from when I was 5 on up. I never in a million years thought my dad knew anything about that though. It wasn't like I was sucking my brothers in the living room or nothing. It started when I was 5 and I shared a room with my older brother Joe who was six years older. And then our older brothers, Sal who was 15 and Tony who was 17 at the time started having me suck them. We had sisters between us in age.
So it was going on a while that I was sucking cock. I even ate cum from the first time sucking Sal and Tony. They always came into my room separately. I hardly ever sucked my brothers all together. It was always separate and kept quiet that they'd want a bj.
And like I said, I never thought my dad knew. Fuck, I think I would have died had I known at the time.
So this happened when I was 8. My brother Tony had been married about a year and Sal had left to go to college - the first to go to college in our family.
That left me to sucking only Joe who was had 14 and had a pretty big dick like all the Baio Boys - as we were called then.
I kind of missed sucking three cocks every day I got to admit. I was sucking them since age 5 so you miss all that when one brother marries and another goes to school. One day, it was after school but before suppertime and Joe was out somewhere, with his buddies most likely. My ma was cooking. She was a housewife and home most of the time.
And this one day my dad comes home early. He managed a store that sold blinds and draperies. He was home maybe a half an hour earlier than usual. So my ma is cooking and I'm upstairs in my room, which now had been my older brothers' old room. And I hear a knock on the door. My dad asks if I want to take a ride to pick up some ice cream for dessert. I jumped up and we went out to the grocers. It wasn't far to this one place but my dad liked the gelati at a place that was a little further walk. We were walking and it was busy with people as was normal in our neighborhood. People coming home from work and just Brooklyn living, you know?
We walk and I have no idea where we are because I had been to the gelato place many times before but this was no where near it. I smelled fish, which was weird, and we rounded a corner and it was a fish warehouse we were next to. I asked why we were there and my dad just told me to follow him. We went to the back of this warehouse building, just steps from the busy street and there was a fire escape type of stairway up. It wasn't a fire escape but looked like one - a metal staircase to the next floor from the alley but it was high where it should have been a 3rd floor. We climb this thing and go inside a metal door. I smell mops and fish and cleanser.
We walk down this empty hall and into a bathroom. It had one of those signs on it marking it was for men. It was dumpy - just a stall, urinal and sink. My dad peed and I figured he somehow knew of this bathroom since it's hard to sometimes find a bathroom you can use freely (without buying something) in Brooklyn.
But instead of putting his cock away when he was done peeing, he asked if I liked his cock. I almost died I think. I loved his cock but was shocked my dad asked me that. I couldn't even answer him I don't think.
He looked at his cock hanging out of his pants and stroked it a little, all the while looking at it. He said I must miss sucking cocks since Sal and Tony were out of the house. I, of course, denied knowing anything he was talking about but he had me. He knew and stopped me from my continuing denials. He said it was okay to suck cock if that's what I liked. He had known I was sucking my older brothers ever since I was 5 because he saw my oldest brother come into my room one night with an erection in his pajama bottoms. He said he knew I must have been sucking cock because Tony snuck out of my room without the erection only like three minutes later. From then on, my dad was onto me.
I looked at his cock in this fish warehouse bathroom and he was hard. His cock was a lot like my older brothers' cocks. Really was. Fat Sicilian cock, not cut, hairy as hairy can be.
He said I could suck his cock for him now that I was down to just one cock to suck in the house. I asked him if he was teasing me. And he said he was 100% serious but nobody better know. He said he'd kick me out of the house if I ever told anybody, including Joe.
I was a cocksucker, ghJ. So you know what I did. Eight years old and I sucked off my dad in this oddball bathroom. He had me go into the stall (first time I ever was in a stall without a door on it) and he throat fucked my face while he had me sit on the shitpot.
We'd "take a walk" whenever he felt the need for some head. He'd grab the housekeys and tell me to grab a jacket saying to my ma, "We're goin' for a walk. We'll be back in a few. Keep the pasta til we get back."
She never knew that he'd be taking me down to that fish warehouse for a bj before we'd stop to pick up gelato. I sucked him like that until I was 11 and then the door to the fish place was locked. He then would take me to this open basement that was beneath a banquet hall. It always had a door that was unlocked. I later came to know it was where a lot of guys would go for a quick one. Even some hookers took their johns down there. We'd sometimes be down there and there'd be two or three other couples going at it in various corners. But it was just an easy place for my dad to get me to blow him. He never liked it if anybody approached us. He just didn't want to ever do it back at the house.
END.
Perry, age 60, San Francisco, California
Mister Gloryholejunkie, even my dad doesn't know this. But I played with his cock all the time between the ages of four and fourteen. How didn't he know? He'd be sleeping, that's how. Like you often have said, a sleeping dad can sometimes be a boy's best sex buddy.
This was back in early 50s when it was still easy for men to play around with boys. But I was the aggressor in this one. He'd been in WWII and had a great body. He was slightly wounded in his right leg. It really just required him to lie down for a while on those days it would be acting up. My mom kept her job even after war so she was a working mom, 9 to 5. My dad was a glazier and so he'd work for months straight and then wouldn't work for perhaps a week or two. He always enjoyed those mini vacations.
Today, I am a slut for cock. I am a cumpig like you. I moved to San Francisco when I was 18 just so I could live on dick. I was spread open throughout the 60s and 70s at bathhouses. There were nights I'd be bred by upwards of 70 men. And that would sometimes be like 7 days of the week at my peak. Fucking amazing I'm still around to tell about it.
I guess I'm like you that I believe some boys are born that way. I know I never chose to be a cocksucker. I never had anything happen to me that made me a cumpig. I was just always that way. I knew I loved cock.
I don't even know where I got the balls to play with my dad's cock. This was maybe '50-'51 when I started it. He was home and laid on the couch listening to the radio. And he fell asleep as he often would. He'd nap for about an hour and awake with his ankle feeling fine again.
I was four. I had to have been four because when I was five I went to kindergarten and this was before then.
My dad had no problem with me climbing on the couch with him to snuggle. A lot of the vets then were young men who wanted that closeness with their family and children. He'd let me hop in beside him on the big blue couch we had in the front room. I'd be snuggled to the inside, against the back of the couch.
When I was four, I already had a different purpose for wanting to be that close to him. I found my dad sexy. Sounds weird for a four year old to be thinking along those lines but I did. I loved touching him - all over. He'd be asleep within minutes especially if he'd tuned to some classical station on the radio. That's when I'd get to work.
I didn't just run my hand along his chest or pants bulge. I would put my hand up under his shirt. I loved the way his hairy chest felt. I'd squeeze his bulge. I couldn't even tell you how hard I did that. I figured that since he was sleeping, he couldn't feel anything. I even learned how to unfasten his pants. I just could never re-fasten them. But I wasn't thinking. From ages 4 to 14 this went on. When I got older, I'd pretend to be reading on the floor beside the couch until he fell asleep and then I'd get to work.
I suppose, technically, I was molesting him. When you think about it. Here he was sound asleep and I was opening his pants to play with his cock.
I don't know why I stopped at 14. No, I do. I remember getting real nervous because even though it was ten years of my being able to open his pants, and his awaking all disshelved (he had to have had to hitch up and tuck his shirt in each time), this one time after I played with him, I was in my bedroom and he came staggering over to my door. He was tucking in his shirt and asked me if I knew why his belt buckle was open. I said I didn't know and he looked groggy as he said he guessed it must have happened while he slept. He walked away but gave me a weird look. And I got nervous after that. And besides, at 14 I started sucking cock elsewhere.
END.
Cedric, age 78, Santa Monica, California
I'm an old man enjoying your dirty, dirty stories. You are a man after my own heart. You get even we old geezers shooting a load. I won't go into the things I have done with boys all my life. It would be far too lengthy. But that is for another time.
I want to tell you about my own experience, which happened, when I was not much more than a baby. It was both traumatic and pleasurable at the same time and is something I have never told anyone. I was married for 38 yrs and after being widowed, I married again for another 19 years. But I never told either wife. I never told anyone this before. I have children and grand- and great-grand children. I belong to veteran's group and never told any of them. But I want to tell you because I think you will understand all the complexities of the experience. You seem to know both the pleasure and confusion that a small boy goes through when sexualized early on.
As I said, I am almost 80 and this happened, I cannot believe it, but already over 75 years ago. I was 2 so that would make it 1926 when this happened. My mother died of tuberculosis when I was one years of age leaving my dad to raise me and my older sister, Bridget. Because she was a girl, my aunt, my mother's sister, took her in. And that left me with my dad. His mother helped out best she could. We lived in a two-flat so my grandparents, my dad's parents, were always around. But I lived with my father in the 2nd floor apartment.
My dad loved to smoke cigars, drink and play poker and all those things most working class men did back then with no shame. Sometimes I'd be downstairs with my grandparents those nights but sometimes since I'd already be asleep, they'd leave me in my bed upstairs while my dad played poker with his friends in the dining room.
I was two as I said and one of these nights a man came into my bedroom. He never turned on a light. I don't know why I didn't scream or cry. I may have thought he was my father at first but more I think of it, I didn't cry because when only a father raises you, you are not scared of adult male forms. I think that's why I didn't utter a sound. Or maybe I did and no one responded.
He came to my bed and put this very salty, wet thing to my lips. Spontaneously, I sucked it into my mouth. You know it's simply what babies do at that age. He was in the room for no more than a very short time and that's when I started making noises. I was coughing because of the warm salty stuff that had come out of him. I remember him making a dash for the bedroom door back into the kitchen. A minute or even more later, it seemed forever, my dad came in, turned on my light and changed my top without saying much.
That happened again the next time but this is what I have never been able to tell anyone before you. It was not one man who came into my dark room that second night. I don't know how many took turns coming in, even my father did at the end to put his penis in my mouth, but if five play poker, it was five men. If seven play poker, it was seven men.
I was coughing all night long with the salty stuff they put in my mouth, which, now, of course, I know was cum. I never could say anything then because of my age. And in the mid 20's there was no one to tell anyway. Boys never spoke of such things. Men did whatever they liked to us yet we knew it was a worse thing to tell. We'd be labeled a queer or a sissy forever if we said anything to anyone.
Although it was strange and scary thing to have happen, I enjoyed it. I suppose that is also why I have never told anyone, including my spouses. I feared I would have to also acknowledge that I enjoyed it and think its something good for a boy to experience. And as we all know, that could never be said out loud. And then I was a father to boys so I knew it would be too dangerous to ever speak of the episode, especially in an embracing way.
My father was not a pedophile as we know of them today. His friends were not. Back then it was that men did not have the outlets for sex which young men today have. It is hard to explain that to people. Until I was seven, and my father remarried, I provided this service to him and his friends. Then I stopped for a great long while. I did not even suck cock during the war and there were many, many opportunities to do so. Coney Island had many cocksuckers awaiting on duty in the rest rooms to suck all of us young Navy men.
I only started sucking cock again when I was married for nearly eighteen years believe it or not. I was in the city (New York) on a job and found a peep show place on Times Square which startled me the way in which it was jam-packed with men all hours of the day and night getting and giving blowjobs. (You'd have loved it). Who can resist such a tempting place and I went back to cocksucking during that week in the city. And haven't stop sucking cocks at every opportunity since.
You would be surprised at the numbers of young men, even quite young, who like being sucked by us old guys. I can't complain.
I appreciate your reading this. I have never had the courage to sit down and write it down until I read your stories. I think it is important that young boys know it is okay to suck cock and eat cum and that we old men even did it in the Dark Ages and we turned out okay. I am widowed twice now but find great joy and comfort in my many children and grandchildren (I think you'd like my sons - they could be your dad. LOL).
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PERHAPS MORE "LETTERS FROM HOME" TO COME By Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE ghj_4u@yahoo.com